"It is something to know. You make your own assessment of the rest."
He is cocky, but not with the same egotistical ignorance as most. His seems to come more from a place of interest, of readiness to face what's ahead. Of knowing. It is something she can respect. Or at the very least tolerate.
"Though you should know, my ravens are those who failed to assess their situations properly."
The stairs continue to rise, nearly as high as the manor itself, and as they climb, the manor too grows. The first entrance was an illusion. They approach and it fades, and the stairs continue to climb. Finally they reach a stone archway, and a great green door beneath.
"I should like to see more of your abilities. You should quite promising work in the labyrinth. I-" She stops short as he brings the flower to creation from the wood. It is not the magic that makes her pause, and her eyes flicker a shade softer as it blooms - but the clear personal touch. The gifts she's given typically contain great sacrifice or power. But this is one of delicacy and beauty. Nerium has never been given a flower before.
"The flower is beautiful." Her momentary softness is lulled by his assertion, as the door pushes open to a great stone hall, lit of levitating candles. She responds with the coldness of winter instead. "But I assure you, there is nothing here I lack. You may enter, if you wish."
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He is cocky, but not with the same egotistical ignorance as most. His seems to come more from a place of interest, of readiness to face what's ahead. Of knowing. It is something she can respect. Or at the very least tolerate.
"Though you should know, my ravens are those who failed to assess their situations properly."
The stairs continue to rise, nearly as high as the manor itself, and as they climb, the manor too grows. The first entrance was an illusion. They approach and it fades, and the stairs continue to climb. Finally they reach a stone archway, and a great green door beneath.
"I should like to see more of your abilities. You should quite promising work in the labyrinth. I-" She stops short as he brings the flower to creation from the wood. It is not the magic that makes her pause, and her eyes flicker a shade softer as it blooms - but the clear personal touch. The gifts she's given typically contain great sacrifice or power. But this is one of delicacy and beauty. Nerium has never been given a flower before.
"The flower is beautiful." Her momentary softness is lulled by his assertion, as the door pushes open to a great stone hall, lit of levitating candles. She responds with the coldness of winter instead. "But I assure you, there is nothing here I lack. You may enter, if you wish."